kiwords

Today’s Dad’s birthday, so I wanted to say a few words about him. Dad has stepped up to the plate in a big way with my boys. He’s in the fray, throwing balls in the back yard, teaching them to play chess, training Tre as a beekeeper (Dad’s a beekeeper – that’s a whole ‘nother blog), and generally standing in place of their dad as much as he can. He’s such a gift to my sons, and I cannot imagine how I would ever thank him. But he isn’t doing this for my thanks. He’s here because he knows what’s important. Because he values the things that matter.
The other day Raphael spotted a picture of Dad and climbed on a chair to get it. He was frustrated because he wanted to take the photo out of the frame, to love it directly. I tried to explain that if we took it out it would get torn or ruined, but he was not impressed. “Gib it to meeee!” he shrieked. Raphael does not understand the concept of loss.
Dad has been looking forward to being a grandpa since he was just a kid. His given name, Martin, was the surname of his mom’s dad. His Grandpa Martin. Dad loved Grandpa Martin, and some of his earliest memories were of him.
But Grandpa Martin died in a car accident, when Dad was just a teen. I think he still misses him.
So there you go. Raphael may love Dad (and oh, he does), but Dad knows what it means to lose someone. So Dad loves him, but he also knows to cherish him.
Thanks, Dad. Happy birthday.